'I didn't elect him. _I_ voted for Douglass. But Lincoln is not a darky.' 'He's a mullater, then; I've heern he war,' she replied. 'No, he's not a mulatto; he's a rail-splitter.' 'Rail-splitter? _Then he's a nigger, shore_.' 'No, madam; white men at the North split rails.' 'An' white wimmin tu, p'raps,' said the woman, with a contemptuous toss of the head. 'No, they don't,' I replied,' but white women _work_ there.' 'White wimmin work thar!' chimed in the hitherto speechless beauty, showing a set of teeth of the exact color of her skin,--_yaller_. 'What du the' du?' 'Some of them attend in stores, some set type, some teach school, and some work in factories.' 'Du tell! Dress nice, and make money?' 'Yes,' I replied, 'they make money, and dress like fine ladies; in fact, _are_ fine ladies. I know one young woman, of about your age, that had to get her own education, who earns a thousand dollars a year by teaching, and I've heard of many factory-girls who support their parents, and lay up a great deal of money, by working in the mills.' 'Wal!' replied the young woman, with a contemptuous curl of her matchless upper lip; 'schule-marms ain't fine ladies; fine ladies don't work; only niggers does that _har_. I reckon I'd ruther be 'spectable than work for a livin'.' I could but think how magnificently the lips of some of our glorious Yankee girls would have curled had they heard that remark, and seen the poor girl that made it, with her torn, worn, greasy dress; her bare, dirty legs and feet, and her arms, neck, and face so thickly encrusted with a layer of clayey mud that there was danger of hydrophobia if she went near a wash-tub. Restraining my involuntary disgust, I replied,-- 'We at the North think work is respectable. We do not look down on a man or a woman for earning their daily bread. We all work.' 'Yas, and that's the why ye'r all sech cowards,' said the old woman. 'Cowards!' I said; 'who tells you that?' 'My old man; he says one on our _boys_ can lick five of your Yankee _men_.' 'Perhaps so. Is your husband away from home?' 'Yes, him and our Cal. ar down to Charles'n.' 'Cal. is your son, is he?' 'Yes, he's my oldest, and a likely lad he ar tu--He's twenty-one, and his name ar JOHN CALHOUN MILLS. He's gone a troopin' it with his fader.' 'What, both gone and left you ladies here alone?' 'Yes, the Cunnel sed every man orter go, and they warn't to be ahind the rest. The Cunnel--Cunnel J.--looks arter us while they is away.' 'But I should think the Colonel looked after you poorly--giving you nothing to eat.' 'Oh! it's ben sech a storm to-day, the gals couldn't go for the vittles, though tain't a great way. We'r on his plantation; this house is his'n.' This last was agreeable news, and it occurred to me that if we were so near the Colonel's we might push on, and get there that night, in spite of the storm; so I said,-- 'Indeed; I'm going to the Colonel's. How far is his house from here?'